| Why Do Editors Reject Your Stories? by John "JAM" Arthur Miller |
Thank you so VERY much to the editors of various publications who have shared
invaluable insight to make this possible:
(Think of this as rolling credits.)
Senior Editor for Apex Magazine Gill Ainsworth
Senior Editor for Scotopia Press Molly Feese
Senior Editor for Liquid Imagination Kevin Wallis (and editor at 2M Magazine)
Associate Editor for Arcane Wisdom (and on-staff at Dark Recesses Magazine) Chris
Perridas
Senior Editor for Radio Astronomy Supplies (and Poetry Judge for ACTSO) John
Mannone
Editor AJ Brown (heavily involved at The Horror Library, Cutting Block Press and
2M Magazine)
Editors, thank you VERY much!!!!
invaluable insight to make this possible:
(Think of this as rolling credits.)
Senior Editor for Apex Magazine Gill Ainsworth
Senior Editor for Scotopia Press Molly Feese
Senior Editor for Liquid Imagination Kevin Wallis (and editor at 2M Magazine)
Associate Editor for Arcane Wisdom (and on-staff at Dark Recesses Magazine) Chris
Perridas
Senior Editor for Radio Astronomy Supplies (and Poetry Judge for ACTSO) John
Mannone
Editor AJ Brown (heavily involved at The Horror Library, Cutting Block Press and
2M Magazine)
Editors, thank you VERY much!!!!
Why Do Editors Reject Your Stories?
Obviously this is catered to writers, but it works for poets and artists as well. And
while it may not affect you, the casual reader, you might still find this interesting
and relevant. You see, submitting a short story to a magazine is like interviewing
for a job: you send a query letter to the publisher, explaining a little about your
submitted story and why it’s a good fit for the magazine (Why do you think you’d
make a good employee?). Next, you explain a little bit about yourself, such as past
publishing credits (this is job history to publishers). Without shaking hands with
your prospective “new boss,” and without knowing what he likes other than the
Guidelines—without meeting him face-to-face—you include all the work you’re
going to do for him, attaching it to the email or sending it through snail mail. Not
only are you attempting to interview here, you’re sending all your work ahead of
time, right then and there, with a SASE envelope.
So, dear reader, when you converse with a writer’s rejected story, and you hear
depression in his voice, see tears streaming down his sad, sad face (forming deep
puddles around his sad, sad feet), understand that you’ve experienced exactly the
same thing. Remember that job you interviewed for, the one that was given to the
sexy blond with HUGE knockers but NO relevant job history? What about the
interview for a promotion given to the boss’s nephew, with the IQ of a slug? And
we can’t forget about the poor performance evaluation you received from the boss
you didn’t get along with?
You see, all these examples are akin to your writer friend typing up a query letter,
attaching a story to it, and sending it out only to receive a rejection. Because the
writer pours his heart and soul into his work, and because he obsesses over his
writing (his hobby, love, passion and—hopefully someday—career), rejection for
your writer-friend is often more personal. Until he develops some tough skin,
rejection will scar his soul and derange his mind (unless he’s already deranged and
writes horror). If he doesn’t develop tough skin, he will give up. Or begin
sacrificing bunnies to his dark and nefarious lord and master on the grill.
As a writer first and publisher second, I’ve sacrificed a few bunnies in my time, and
the topic of this essay is important to me: why do editors reject your stories? Of
course, most of my stories were rejected because they sucked (God, that was hard
to say). Of course, some were really good, but some of those were rejected, too.
And this article isn’t about the stories that suck, but about the stories that rock…
and are still rejected.
Understanding didn’t happen until I became General Manager of “2M Magazine.”
Running “Liquid Imagination” led me to suspect some things, but working with “2M
Magazine” showed me the intricacies of putting a multi-layered magazine together.
For example, what about theme? Overall appeal to readers? The total package?
What if the editors already have a story like mine? What if… my editor is the one
who shot John F. Kennedy?
These questions and more shall be answered, dear reader. As will the questions
about the writer’s meaning of life. So… read on, pass the popcorn, and smell the
roses along the way (sorry, but all my writing utilizes overused clichés and
redundancy).
There are writers out there shouting, “Themes? What themes? You didn’t mention
any bloody themes in the Guidelines for the magazines you manage, you lying
bloke!”
Obviously, this writer is from the UK and, as such, writes complicated sentences
without strong plot. This is exactly why his last story was rejected. Actually, I’m
stereotyping this writer, exactly like editors sometimes do (never my editors). This
example proves my point: editors typecast writers (not mine). Editors DO
stereotype writers based on location, background, publishing history, previous
stories submitted (if they’ve been crappy up to that point, the editor will open up a
roll of toilet paper before reading the latest story from that particular writer). And
editors stereotype based on photos, too
Photos?
I know photos play a prominent element in stories, because if they didn’t, then
pretty ladies wouldn’t post their pretty pictures at their pretty websites. This sort
of thing must work pretty well, especially if they’re in a string bikini. Even better if
they’re blond with big hooters (and, thus, I receive another rejection notice due to
my lack of big boobs). And they almost always seem to be friends with some editor
or male big shot with multiple novels under his pants (I meant belt).
I, however, am cut from a different cloth, and when a writer sends her picture with
her query letter, and if she’s blond with big boobs, before even reading her story, I
reject it and type Dear Bitch in the subject line. Then I pass her picture around to
my editor friends and say, Get a load of this one! That’s how I stereotype based on
rage and frustration, focusing all my angst against the pretty writers out there
(gotta’ have someone to blame, you know).
And, just to let you know, our British writer-friend mentioned above would be
correct: we haven’t included any themes in the “2M Magazine” guidelines or “Liquid
Imagination” Guidelines. There simply aren’t any “themes” we actively search for.
That said, themes do exist… themes the writers know NOTHING about.
Imagine going to a job interview, and the boss is looking for someone very
specific. Perhaps a hot blond with big boobs. But the boss can’t tell the fifty year
old man, “Sorry, you’re too old AND you’re a man—not what we’re looking for.”
But that is exactly what editors tell writers: your story isn’t what we’re looking for;
thanks, but we have to pass; we’re looking for a hot blond with no brain and
superb writing skills.
Isn’t it unfair to build a theme without telling the writers that in the Guidelines?
Yes and no. You see, each issue comes alive like a character in a story, developing
its own theme, especially if that magazine has articles. Everything begins to tie
together, and pretty soon a theme develops and grows, very much like a
character. I’ve heard of bestselling authors talk about evil characters they write
into a story, how those evil characters develop a sympathetic personality,
engaging the readers’ sympathy. Or, sometimes, the intended evil character turns
out to be a good guy by the end of the novel, because that’s just how that
particular character developed in the story. It’s unintentional and unplanned, but it
happens. Ideally, every character takes on a life of his/her own.
Likewise, each issue of a magazine develops unintentional themes independent
from the publishers. Singular goal, make a magazine. Once the magazine begins to
take on a life of its own, this life propels it into a GREAT magazine, sometimes
contrary to the editors’ original goals. These themes come into play based on the
first accepted articles, interviews, fiction and poems. It’s like an affair—it just
happens.
So the reason your magnum opus is rejected (other than the suck factor) may very
well be that it doesn’t fit the SECRET theme of that particular issue. It may fit the
Guidelines, but it simply doesn’t fit that issue’s theme. And, to depress you even
more, it could have been accepted for the previous month’s issue, or perhaps next
year… just not THIS issue. So your story has to be in the right time and at the right
place, and often with the right editor.
There are other reasons good stories are rejected. Someone else may have
submitted a story exactly like yours (or very similar), and it’s already been
accepted where you’re submitting your dandy of a story. When your story arrives,
even if it is written better, because the editors have already accepted that
particular style of story, they may feel obliged to pass on yours. After all, many
editors feel it poor practice to accept in the same issue two stories about brain-
eating homosexual zombies drinking Long Island Iced Teas playing ping pong—
unless it’s an anthology. So if your story comes in, themed similarly to a story
already accepted, the editors will probably pass on one of them.
I asked Chris Perridas about the reasons he’s rejected stories that are good. Chris
is a writer with numerous publications of fiction, poems, and essays in books, print,
and electronic magazines. He’s currently an associate editor of Arcane Wisdom, an
antiquarian horror and weird tale publishing house, and on staff at Dark Recesses
Magazine.
According to Chris, “It’s assumed that professional writers will submit manuscripts
free of errors, and formatted to the specifications decreed by the editors. Beyond
that prerequisite, a story has to fit within the context of the magazine or anthology
and coincide with other submissions that are accepted. Clearing those hurdles, the
next frequent reason for rejection is due to lack of creativity and imagination. Your
story is just too ordinary, too “seen it all before”. Editors desperately need to
market and garner the attention of cash-strapped readers. To do so they need to
create a buzz. That’s why they need excitement and originality from a writer:
Penache and sparkle. So the next time you submit something ask if you’ve done
your very best to give a crisp rendition of your theme, and if so, you may get a
letter that says, “We’re happy to say we accept …”
Another editor with something on her mind concerning this subject is Molly Feese.
Molly is editor in chief for Scotopia Press. Published in poetry, fiction and non-
fiction, her most notable work lies behind the scenes in the (thus far) well received
Dark-Distortions series for Scotopia.
According to Molly, “The great stories are the hardest to reject. On several
occasions, I have received stories that were really good, that deserved to be in
print, but that did not conform to what my publication needed. I try to be very
careful and as helpful as possible when rejecting these precious gems. I try to be
honest and specific about why I did not choose to move forward with the piece.
The reasons have been varied. For instance, I tend to shy away from stories with a
heavy political bent, whether it matches my own or not, the plot may not
compliment the theme (these are within the guidelines for Dark Distortions) or the
thing that makes the story special would be the thing that I would have to change
to make it fit. Each of those reasons have gotten a story rejected with “I regret to
inform you” and this is why… ”
Senior Editor Gill Ainsworth receives thousands of stories for Apex. She has
rejected high quality stories for this very reason, especially since Apex is among
cutting-edge magazines bringing the very best in horror and science fiction. Its
vast market has a large readership, and because of this Apex has the ability to put
new writers “on the map” while continuing to promote seasoned pros.
“From the writer’s point of view, I know how unuseful a statement like ‘it isn’t a
good fit’ can be. It doesn’t help the author to improve their writing, or even to
know where they might have gone wrong for that particular editor or issue. “Why
isn’t it a good fit?” they might well ask. “What’s wrong with it?” They’ve gone
through months of nurturing, not to mention a prolonged labour and episiotomy, to
spurt out their creation into the big wide world, and then the reply comes: it isn’t a
good fit.
“When I don my Apex editor’s hat, I don’t find it easy to reject a story. Maybe the
story has plot holes so huge even Jack’s giant (of beanstalk fame) could fall into
them and never see daylight again. Maybe the story is littered with so many
grammatical errors even Alice (in Wonderland) would have trouble making sense
of it. Maybe the exposition is so soporific even a prince’s kiss wouldn’t wake
Sleeping Beauty. It doesn’t matter except for the problem: how do you tell writers
without upsetting them? It’s hard, very hard, to hear such things. But, for those
who can listen, it could be a very useful learning curve. As Stephen King mentioned
in his book, On Writing, an editor’s hand-written note on a rejection slip was the
turning point in his writing career. That particular piece of advice was to cut the
first draft by 10%.”
Along these same lines, Molly adds, “If an editor has taken the time to comment
on your story, whether the outcome was good or bad, take the opportunity to
heart. Even if you are crushed, consider their comments. Most of us are not out to
hurt you but our first obligation is to the publication and until you are accepted,
you come second. Any personal attention they show to your story most likely
indicates that the editor would be happy to see a future submission from you given
that you were able to take and use the advice.”
“However,” Gills says, “The hardest to reject are those stories that are captivating,
different, well written, but… And it’s that ‘but.’ They just won’t fit in with either
house style or other, already accepted, pieces of work.
“How does an editor know what a ‘good fit’ will be when s/he first conceives an
idea? Often, it’s a matter of seeing what submissions come in, trying to find stories
that create a coherent order that will sell. (The writer expects to be paid but, in
order to pay said writer, the publisher must be able to sell their publication to
exacting readers.) The editor will have a general theme in mind, but it’s up to the
writers to bring together that theme, and the editor doesn’t want to stymie them
by narrowing down the theme more than necessary. It might even be that the
editor’s overall perspective on a particular issue or anthology is swayed by the
stories s/he receives in their in-box.
“Research will help considerably. Read work already published by the market at
which you’re aiming. Find out if the editor(s) has any pet hates or penchants. Make
sure your work is formatted exactly as requested and that your covering letter is
professional. Editors want to like the story they’re reading. Give them every
reason you can for them to do so.”
Molly adds to this saying, “Formatting and submitting according to guidelines IS
important. It shows respect for the editor and the publication. Respect for his/her
time and indicates that you will be a pleasant author to work with.”
AJ Brown has worked on numerous publications from “The Horror Library” to “Dark
Recesses Press” and “Cutting Block Press.” He says editors may reject stories
based on personal taste: “I’ve had editors reject stories saying things like, ‘not my
type of story,’ or ‘not my tastes.’
“I know that there have been a couple of stories that I wouldn’t read because of
content: blasphemy being the biggest reason. I usually push those stories to other
editors (of that publication) and let them rule on it. There is still one story in the
“HL Volume III” that I will not read simply because of what it is about.
“I feel that just because it’s not someone’s style or taste doesn’t mean it’s not a fit
for the magazine. I always think about the publication I am reading for when going
through slush. Just because it’s not my thing doesn’t mean it wouldn’t fit in the
publication—that is when you push it to another editor or reader.
But what if you have a well-written story that falls within the guidelines as well as
the themes (hidden and known) of a publication, and your story STILL is rejected.
Perhaps you’re a seasoned writer, and you know you’ve crafted a well-written
story. When the next issue comes out, you read that publication and simply don’t
understand why THOSE stories made while YOUR story didn’t.
Since November 2006, John C. Mannone has been the senior editor for the
technical journal, Radio Astronomy, for the Society of Amateur Radio Astronomers,
so this is not a professional journal. He is also a poetry judge for ACTSO (an NAACP
sponsored arts and science Olympics of sports for African American high school
students) for the last two years. He’s been tasked to judge the poetry on the basis
of industry standards for poetic material.
John brings up some good points: “Though the mechanics of accepting an article
are a little different (I may do some of the editing to bring it up to standard), there
are some things that puts me in disfavor for acceptance:
“-noncompliance with submission guidelines
-’amateurish’ writing and gross inattention to syntax (with the exception from
bilingual contributors from other countries). Some things that qualify “amateurish”
writing: passive voice is more common in technical writing, so this isn’t as serious
as in fiction or poetry, but person is–inadequate use of fist person especially, tense
inconsistency, writing is not unified, coherent or harmonious (English Composition
101)
-inappropriate level (writers should always do their homework and study previous
issues)
-irrelevant subject matter
-inconsistent with the theme, if there is one
”For poetry (or fiction writing), I look for craft. I have rejected many pieces for two
reasons besides the obvious ones stated above: lack of craft and lack of heart.
These must occur together. I have seen finely crafted work with no heart and I
have seen much work with lots of heart and zero craft. I have rejected both.
“By ‘heart’ I do not mean sentimentality (that is usually a sinker), but connectivity
with the reader evoking an emotional impact.
“By ‘craft’ I mean the preponderance of poetic devices in a distilled writing with
beautiful rhythm together with unforced rhyme discipline for traditional pieces or
effective line breaks for modern ones (cut-up prose is a major reason for rejection).
Along those same lines, Kevin Wallis says, “The number 1 reason I reject stories:
lack of emotion.”
The Senior Editor of “Liquid Imagination,” and an editor at the new print “2M
Magazine,” Kevin Wallis is dogmatic about what he looks for.
“Grammar can be corrected through editing. Spell check exists for a reason. But if
the story doesn’t produce something inside me when I read it—awe, fright,
laughter, sorrow, that warm, titillating feeling you get from well-written erotica,
something—then I have to reject it. That’s what all good entertainment does: it
stirs emotion. Good films leave you either staring at the screen as the credits roll,
reliving the characters’ plights in your head, or rubbing your aching jaws from
laughing for the last 90 minutes. Your favorite music moves your limbs and bobs
your head, whether you realize it or not. Extraordinary artwork speaks to you,
even if you can’t articulate exactly why you choose to appreciate it. And good
fiction should do all of the above. And then some.”
Rejection notices are bound to come for any writer. Gills already mentioned
Stephen King’s book “On Writing.” In that book he speaks of rejection notices, and
with a little effort one can research what their favorite writers have to say about
their own rejected works, usually at their websites. The path of the writer is
littered with rejection notices; its just part of the job.
When receiving that terrible rejection notice, Gills exhorts writers saying, “Take
heart. When you get an ‘it isn’t a good fit’, your story is probably gripping, well
written and, well, everything you’d hoped it would be. It just isn’t right for that
particular market on that day, that month, that year. Send it out again and,
sooner or later, you’ll get a response that oozes love and affection for your baby.
Your new-born will finally be thrust into the world, kicking and screaming and
loving every minute.”
Obviously this is catered to writers, but it works for poets and artists as well. And
while it may not affect you, the casual reader, you might still find this interesting
and relevant. You see, submitting a short story to a magazine is like interviewing
for a job: you send a query letter to the publisher, explaining a little about your
submitted story and why it’s a good fit for the magazine (Why do you think you’d
make a good employee?). Next, you explain a little bit about yourself, such as past
publishing credits (this is job history to publishers). Without shaking hands with
your prospective “new boss,” and without knowing what he likes other than the
Guidelines—without meeting him face-to-face—you include all the work you’re
going to do for him, attaching it to the email or sending it through snail mail. Not
only are you attempting to interview here, you’re sending all your work ahead of
time, right then and there, with a SASE envelope.
So, dear reader, when you converse with a writer’s rejected story, and you hear
depression in his voice, see tears streaming down his sad, sad face (forming deep
puddles around his sad, sad feet), understand that you’ve experienced exactly the
same thing. Remember that job you interviewed for, the one that was given to the
sexy blond with HUGE knockers but NO relevant job history? What about the
interview for a promotion given to the boss’s nephew, with the IQ of a slug? And
we can’t forget about the poor performance evaluation you received from the boss
you didn’t get along with?
You see, all these examples are akin to your writer friend typing up a query letter,
attaching a story to it, and sending it out only to receive a rejection. Because the
writer pours his heart and soul into his work, and because he obsesses over his
writing (his hobby, love, passion and—hopefully someday—career), rejection for
your writer-friend is often more personal. Until he develops some tough skin,
rejection will scar his soul and derange his mind (unless he’s already deranged and
writes horror). If he doesn’t develop tough skin, he will give up. Or begin
sacrificing bunnies to his dark and nefarious lord and master on the grill.
As a writer first and publisher second, I’ve sacrificed a few bunnies in my time, and
the topic of this essay is important to me: why do editors reject your stories? Of
course, most of my stories were rejected because they sucked (God, that was hard
to say). Of course, some were really good, but some of those were rejected, too.
And this article isn’t about the stories that suck, but about the stories that rock…
and are still rejected.
Understanding didn’t happen until I became General Manager of “2M Magazine.”
Running “Liquid Imagination” led me to suspect some things, but working with “2M
Magazine” showed me the intricacies of putting a multi-layered magazine together.
For example, what about theme? Overall appeal to readers? The total package?
What if the editors already have a story like mine? What if… my editor is the one
who shot John F. Kennedy?
These questions and more shall be answered, dear reader. As will the questions
about the writer’s meaning of life. So… read on, pass the popcorn, and smell the
roses along the way (sorry, but all my writing utilizes overused clichés and
redundancy).
There are writers out there shouting, “Themes? What themes? You didn’t mention
any bloody themes in the Guidelines for the magazines you manage, you lying
bloke!”
Obviously, this writer is from the UK and, as such, writes complicated sentences
without strong plot. This is exactly why his last story was rejected. Actually, I’m
stereotyping this writer, exactly like editors sometimes do (never my editors). This
example proves my point: editors typecast writers (not mine). Editors DO
stereotype writers based on location, background, publishing history, previous
stories submitted (if they’ve been crappy up to that point, the editor will open up a
roll of toilet paper before reading the latest story from that particular writer). And
editors stereotype based on photos, too
Photos?
I know photos play a prominent element in stories, because if they didn’t, then
pretty ladies wouldn’t post their pretty pictures at their pretty websites. This sort
of thing must work pretty well, especially if they’re in a string bikini. Even better if
they’re blond with big hooters (and, thus, I receive another rejection notice due to
my lack of big boobs). And they almost always seem to be friends with some editor
or male big shot with multiple novels under his pants (I meant belt).
I, however, am cut from a different cloth, and when a writer sends her picture with
her query letter, and if she’s blond with big boobs, before even reading her story, I
reject it and type Dear Bitch in the subject line. Then I pass her picture around to
my editor friends and say, Get a load of this one! That’s how I stereotype based on
rage and frustration, focusing all my angst against the pretty writers out there
(gotta’ have someone to blame, you know).
And, just to let you know, our British writer-friend mentioned above would be
correct: we haven’t included any themes in the “2M Magazine” guidelines or “Liquid
Imagination” Guidelines. There simply aren’t any “themes” we actively search for.
That said, themes do exist… themes the writers know NOTHING about.
Imagine going to a job interview, and the boss is looking for someone very
specific. Perhaps a hot blond with big boobs. But the boss can’t tell the fifty year
old man, “Sorry, you’re too old AND you’re a man—not what we’re looking for.”
But that is exactly what editors tell writers: your story isn’t what we’re looking for;
thanks, but we have to pass; we’re looking for a hot blond with no brain and
superb writing skills.
Isn’t it unfair to build a theme without telling the writers that in the Guidelines?
Yes and no. You see, each issue comes alive like a character in a story, developing
its own theme, especially if that magazine has articles. Everything begins to tie
together, and pretty soon a theme develops and grows, very much like a
character. I’ve heard of bestselling authors talk about evil characters they write
into a story, how those evil characters develop a sympathetic personality,
engaging the readers’ sympathy. Or, sometimes, the intended evil character turns
out to be a good guy by the end of the novel, because that’s just how that
particular character developed in the story. It’s unintentional and unplanned, but it
happens. Ideally, every character takes on a life of his/her own.
Likewise, each issue of a magazine develops unintentional themes independent
from the publishers. Singular goal, make a magazine. Once the magazine begins to
take on a life of its own, this life propels it into a GREAT magazine, sometimes
contrary to the editors’ original goals. These themes come into play based on the
first accepted articles, interviews, fiction and poems. It’s like an affair—it just
happens.
So the reason your magnum opus is rejected (other than the suck factor) may very
well be that it doesn’t fit the SECRET theme of that particular issue. It may fit the
Guidelines, but it simply doesn’t fit that issue’s theme. And, to depress you even
more, it could have been accepted for the previous month’s issue, or perhaps next
year… just not THIS issue. So your story has to be in the right time and at the right
place, and often with the right editor.
There are other reasons good stories are rejected. Someone else may have
submitted a story exactly like yours (or very similar), and it’s already been
accepted where you’re submitting your dandy of a story. When your story arrives,
even if it is written better, because the editors have already accepted that
particular style of story, they may feel obliged to pass on yours. After all, many
editors feel it poor practice to accept in the same issue two stories about brain-
eating homosexual zombies drinking Long Island Iced Teas playing ping pong—
unless it’s an anthology. So if your story comes in, themed similarly to a story
already accepted, the editors will probably pass on one of them.
I asked Chris Perridas about the reasons he’s rejected stories that are good. Chris
is a writer with numerous publications of fiction, poems, and essays in books, print,
and electronic magazines. He’s currently an associate editor of Arcane Wisdom, an
antiquarian horror and weird tale publishing house, and on staff at Dark Recesses
Magazine.
According to Chris, “It’s assumed that professional writers will submit manuscripts
free of errors, and formatted to the specifications decreed by the editors. Beyond
that prerequisite, a story has to fit within the context of the magazine or anthology
and coincide with other submissions that are accepted. Clearing those hurdles, the
next frequent reason for rejection is due to lack of creativity and imagination. Your
story is just too ordinary, too “seen it all before”. Editors desperately need to
market and garner the attention of cash-strapped readers. To do so they need to
create a buzz. That’s why they need excitement and originality from a writer:
Penache and sparkle. So the next time you submit something ask if you’ve done
your very best to give a crisp rendition of your theme, and if so, you may get a
letter that says, “We’re happy to say we accept …”
Another editor with something on her mind concerning this subject is Molly Feese.
Molly is editor in chief for Scotopia Press. Published in poetry, fiction and non-
fiction, her most notable work lies behind the scenes in the (thus far) well received
Dark-Distortions series for Scotopia.
According to Molly, “The great stories are the hardest to reject. On several
occasions, I have received stories that were really good, that deserved to be in
print, but that did not conform to what my publication needed. I try to be very
careful and as helpful as possible when rejecting these precious gems. I try to be
honest and specific about why I did not choose to move forward with the piece.
The reasons have been varied. For instance, I tend to shy away from stories with a
heavy political bent, whether it matches my own or not, the plot may not
compliment the theme (these are within the guidelines for Dark Distortions) or the
thing that makes the story special would be the thing that I would have to change
to make it fit. Each of those reasons have gotten a story rejected with “I regret to
inform you” and this is why… ”
Senior Editor Gill Ainsworth receives thousands of stories for Apex. She has
rejected high quality stories for this very reason, especially since Apex is among
cutting-edge magazines bringing the very best in horror and science fiction. Its
vast market has a large readership, and because of this Apex has the ability to put
new writers “on the map” while continuing to promote seasoned pros.
“From the writer’s point of view, I know how unuseful a statement like ‘it isn’t a
good fit’ can be. It doesn’t help the author to improve their writing, or even to
know where they might have gone wrong for that particular editor or issue. “Why
isn’t it a good fit?” they might well ask. “What’s wrong with it?” They’ve gone
through months of nurturing, not to mention a prolonged labour and episiotomy, to
spurt out their creation into the big wide world, and then the reply comes: it isn’t a
good fit.
“When I don my Apex editor’s hat, I don’t find it easy to reject a story. Maybe the
story has plot holes so huge even Jack’s giant (of beanstalk fame) could fall into
them and never see daylight again. Maybe the story is littered with so many
grammatical errors even Alice (in Wonderland) would have trouble making sense
of it. Maybe the exposition is so soporific even a prince’s kiss wouldn’t wake
Sleeping Beauty. It doesn’t matter except for the problem: how do you tell writers
without upsetting them? It’s hard, very hard, to hear such things. But, for those
who can listen, it could be a very useful learning curve. As Stephen King mentioned
in his book, On Writing, an editor’s hand-written note on a rejection slip was the
turning point in his writing career. That particular piece of advice was to cut the
first draft by 10%.”
Along these same lines, Molly adds, “If an editor has taken the time to comment
on your story, whether the outcome was good or bad, take the opportunity to
heart. Even if you are crushed, consider their comments. Most of us are not out to
hurt you but our first obligation is to the publication and until you are accepted,
you come second. Any personal attention they show to your story most likely
indicates that the editor would be happy to see a future submission from you given
that you were able to take and use the advice.”
“However,” Gills says, “The hardest to reject are those stories that are captivating,
different, well written, but… And it’s that ‘but.’ They just won’t fit in with either
house style or other, already accepted, pieces of work.
“How does an editor know what a ‘good fit’ will be when s/he first conceives an
idea? Often, it’s a matter of seeing what submissions come in, trying to find stories
that create a coherent order that will sell. (The writer expects to be paid but, in
order to pay said writer, the publisher must be able to sell their publication to
exacting readers.) The editor will have a general theme in mind, but it’s up to the
writers to bring together that theme, and the editor doesn’t want to stymie them
by narrowing down the theme more than necessary. It might even be that the
editor’s overall perspective on a particular issue or anthology is swayed by the
stories s/he receives in their in-box.
“Research will help considerably. Read work already published by the market at
which you’re aiming. Find out if the editor(s) has any pet hates or penchants. Make
sure your work is formatted exactly as requested and that your covering letter is
professional. Editors want to like the story they’re reading. Give them every
reason you can for them to do so.”
Molly adds to this saying, “Formatting and submitting according to guidelines IS
important. It shows respect for the editor and the publication. Respect for his/her
time and indicates that you will be a pleasant author to work with.”
AJ Brown has worked on numerous publications from “The Horror Library” to “Dark
Recesses Press” and “Cutting Block Press.” He says editors may reject stories
based on personal taste: “I’ve had editors reject stories saying things like, ‘not my
type of story,’ or ‘not my tastes.’
“I know that there have been a couple of stories that I wouldn’t read because of
content: blasphemy being the biggest reason. I usually push those stories to other
editors (of that publication) and let them rule on it. There is still one story in the
“HL Volume III” that I will not read simply because of what it is about.
“I feel that just because it’s not someone’s style or taste doesn’t mean it’s not a fit
for the magazine. I always think about the publication I am reading for when going
through slush. Just because it’s not my thing doesn’t mean it wouldn’t fit in the
publication—that is when you push it to another editor or reader.
But what if you have a well-written story that falls within the guidelines as well as
the themes (hidden and known) of a publication, and your story STILL is rejected.
Perhaps you’re a seasoned writer, and you know you’ve crafted a well-written
story. When the next issue comes out, you read that publication and simply don’t
understand why THOSE stories made while YOUR story didn’t.
Since November 2006, John C. Mannone has been the senior editor for the
technical journal, Radio Astronomy, for the Society of Amateur Radio Astronomers,
so this is not a professional journal. He is also a poetry judge for ACTSO (an NAACP
sponsored arts and science Olympics of sports for African American high school
students) for the last two years. He’s been tasked to judge the poetry on the basis
of industry standards for poetic material.
John brings up some good points: “Though the mechanics of accepting an article
are a little different (I may do some of the editing to bring it up to standard), there
are some things that puts me in disfavor for acceptance:
“-noncompliance with submission guidelines
-’amateurish’ writing and gross inattention to syntax (with the exception from
bilingual contributors from other countries). Some things that qualify “amateurish”
writing: passive voice is more common in technical writing, so this isn’t as serious
as in fiction or poetry, but person is–inadequate use of fist person especially, tense
inconsistency, writing is not unified, coherent or harmonious (English Composition
101)
-inappropriate level (writers should always do their homework and study previous
issues)
-irrelevant subject matter
-inconsistent with the theme, if there is one
”For poetry (or fiction writing), I look for craft. I have rejected many pieces for two
reasons besides the obvious ones stated above: lack of craft and lack of heart.
These must occur together. I have seen finely crafted work with no heart and I
have seen much work with lots of heart and zero craft. I have rejected both.
“By ‘heart’ I do not mean sentimentality (that is usually a sinker), but connectivity
with the reader evoking an emotional impact.
“By ‘craft’ I mean the preponderance of poetic devices in a distilled writing with
beautiful rhythm together with unforced rhyme discipline for traditional pieces or
effective line breaks for modern ones (cut-up prose is a major reason for rejection).
Along those same lines, Kevin Wallis says, “The number 1 reason I reject stories:
lack of emotion.”
The Senior Editor of “Liquid Imagination,” and an editor at the new print “2M
Magazine,” Kevin Wallis is dogmatic about what he looks for.
“Grammar can be corrected through editing. Spell check exists for a reason. But if
the story doesn’t produce something inside me when I read it—awe, fright,
laughter, sorrow, that warm, titillating feeling you get from well-written erotica,
something—then I have to reject it. That’s what all good entertainment does: it
stirs emotion. Good films leave you either staring at the screen as the credits roll,
reliving the characters’ plights in your head, or rubbing your aching jaws from
laughing for the last 90 minutes. Your favorite music moves your limbs and bobs
your head, whether you realize it or not. Extraordinary artwork speaks to you,
even if you can’t articulate exactly why you choose to appreciate it. And good
fiction should do all of the above. And then some.”
Rejection notices are bound to come for any writer. Gills already mentioned
Stephen King’s book “On Writing.” In that book he speaks of rejection notices, and
with a little effort one can research what their favorite writers have to say about
their own rejected works, usually at their websites. The path of the writer is
littered with rejection notices; its just part of the job.
When receiving that terrible rejection notice, Gills exhorts writers saying, “Take
heart. When you get an ‘it isn’t a good fit’, your story is probably gripping, well
written and, well, everything you’d hoped it would be. It just isn’t right for that
particular market on that day, that month, that year. Send it out again and,
sooner or later, you’ll get a response that oozes love and affection for your baby.
Your new-born will finally be thrust into the world, kicking and screaming and
loving every minute.”
